I refused to believe this when I first read it, but yeah: it’s the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, embarked on his new and exciting career of ranting from the privacy of his own home. Which is what *I* do, sure, but… it’s what *I* do, and while it doesn’t bug me I imagine that it bugs Keith Olbermann, at least a little. Anyway, to quote my wife – who is, by the way, a ninja when it comes to rhetorical assassinations – “Was he doing it in his pajamas?”
Thankfully, no. The guy’s even shaving. But there’s something about that tie that is not quite, well, on…
Moe Lane
Roger Waters wrote about the Fletcher Memorial Home for incurable tyrants and kings– we need something like that for washed-up liberal reporters that have worn out their welcome in the MSM. There would be video cameras and closed-circuit TV so they could appear on TV and feel good about themselves, but without subjecting the populace at large to their paranoid rantings.
This peice is missing a sound-effect. The one that mimics the noise one hears as he observes another person slurpee the ditch.